


the insatiables

by SoIntoYou



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), The Dreamers (2003)
Genre: "The Dreamers" AU, 1960s, Erotica, F/M, M/M, Paris (City), Pseudo-Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 14:29:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9276098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoIntoYou/pseuds/SoIntoYou
Summary: The first time he slept with one of the Tyrell siblings, it happened very quickly, in a passionate blur that he would have trouble remembering later.





	

 

 

It was the summer of 1968, and Renly was studying abroad in Paris. He was learning French, and it was a far cry from what he’d known in his conservative San Diego family back home. Every week he went to the cinematheque. It was his obsession.

He saw Margaery first. She sat in the first row of the cinema with her brother. “Hi,” she said, gazing at Renly with a bold look in her eye. Loras glanced over haughtily, and then away. When they watched the film together, it was as if they breathed only for what they saw onscreen.

They were so alike that they almost looked like the same person. They had the same perfect Roman nose, the full rose lips. It was strange seeing the same face on two different people, and yet still being able to see the extraordinary beauty of each individual.

Margaery was so friendly, like a kitten. She came up and arched her back like she wanted to be petted. But she was gorgeous in the way that all the French girls were, her legs looking about a mile long in her miniskirt. She inhabited her body with a lazy grace, and had an arch expression that never let Renly know if she were serious or joking.

“Your English is very good,” he told her.

“Thanks.” She flashed him a smile, blindingly stunning. “Our mother is American.”

 

 

Loras was intense. He was a student, full of ideas, full of wind and fire. Smoking hand-rolled cigarettes, he studied Renly hard for a moment, and then quizzed him for hours about different films that he liked, actors, directors, and why.

Margaery was ebullient. She wanted to share her joy in films, in life, in everything, stretching out her arms and relaxing back into the sun with a blissful smile on her face. But with Loras, it was always a challenge. He was always quizzing you, wanting to make more of you than you felt you could be. In a way, it was a wonderful thing, to have that expectation.

 

 

They invited him into the apartment they shared with their parents.

There was something unformed, childlike about the two of them. The way they spoke, in roundabout ways that only sometimes made sense, with strange references to childhood literature. They were like the Pevensie children or something.

They weren’t really twins. Margaery had confessed this in a moment of pious honesty, although Loras insisted that they were two halves of the same person. “That much is true,” she confided to Renly. “But he’s a year older. Hardly anything, don’t you think?”

It was just the two of them. They’d had one older brother who’d died in an accident, and another who was ten years older and was out of the family home long before they were old enough to really remember him. Maybe that was responsible for the way that they were. So close. Too close. Perfectly close.

They fought like children too, darkness crossing their faces in the blink of an eye, and then leaving just as quickly. They bathed totally nude, completely used to each others’ bodies.

Loras was possessive. Margaery was the one who’d drawn people into their sphere before, and so it was now. Sometimes Loras glowered at Renly so darkly that Renly felt the light of day begin to dim.

 

 

When he stumbled accidentally into their bedroom at night, Renly was shocked to see them, curved around one another like two sleeping angels. It was like a painting, both of them with their golden brown hair falling over their shoulders. So Gallic, so beautiful. So striking and shocking all at once.

In the morning, he couldn’t hide anything from Margaery’s smile. “I—I saw you two,” he confessed in a low fast voice. “Last night.”

She frowned, shaking a finger at him like a scolding mother. Play-acting. “Well, that’s not very polite of you.”

At breakfast she sat on his lap and reached across the table for the milk. Loras scowled at the two of them over the paper like a disapproving father. “Margaery, get off him, won’t you?”

“Oh, he doesn’t mind,” Margaery said, pouring the milk in her cup and reaching for the butter.

Loras pushed back his chair with a screech and abruptly stalked out of the room. Alarmed, Renly really did shove Margaery off of his lap, making to stand up, but Margaery turned to him and put a restraining hand on his arm. “Oh, he’s just moody sometimes,” she said, sounding not at all bothered. “Don’t worry about him.”

Renly wanted so badly to follow, but he couldn’t with Margaery’s weight pinning him to the chair.

 

 

The first time he slept with one of the Tyrell siblings, it happened very quickly, in a passionate blur that he would have trouble remembering later.

Loras stared at him, eyes gleaming like this was all a dare.

“Am I that horrible, that you are so disgusted at the thought of making love to me?” Margaery was looking at him, more amused that hurt, wearing nothing but a pair of long opera gloves. Her body was totally uncovered.

“No—you’re beautiful, it’s just that—”

She approached him slowly, and he tensed, every muscle in his body clamping. But she kissed him very softly, Loras holding him in place from behind. He thought that he couldn’t be drawn to Margaery, not aroused like that. But somehow, and maybe it was the combination of her undoing his trousers in front and Loras holding him tightly through the underarms from the back, he was.

They made love on the kitchen floor. Margaery clenched around him, squeezing her eyes shut with a moaning hiss like a cat.

After, there was blood between her legs. He touched it wonderingly. “It was your first time?” 

She nodded, her eyes fixed on him. There were tears standing in them. He wrapped his hands around her face and kissed her deeply.

He no longer saw Loras standing above them.

 

 

After that, Loras was aggressive with him. Renly didn’t understand. After all, it had been Loras’s idea that he make love to Margaery.

He made love to Margaery over and over again with the sunlight streaming through the windows of his bedroom, on the narrow cot. She lay on top of the covers, nude, smoking a cigarette and flicking the ash into a saucer.

When she had dozed off, sleeping on her stomach like a child, Loras came into the room and stood in the doorway, just looking.

“We really are like twins, you know,” Loras said to him, and it was a warning.

Renly stood up. He walked to the door and tried to pass by, but Loras didn’t let him. He pinned Renly to the wall and squeezed a stranglehold around his throat. It was lucky he decided to kiss him, not hurt him. But Renly had always been lucky in that way.

It was violent, and exactly what he’d wanted.

With his mouth around Loras, he made him come violently. He thought with a twinge of surprise that Loras and Margaery tasted the same, in a way.

 

 

Loras always wanted to pick a fight. Over which record was better, Jimi Hendrix or Janis Joplin, or who was the better comic actor, Charlie Chaplin or Buster Keaton? Renly found himself struggling to defend himself. Sometimes Margaery would rise to his defense, but whenever she sided with her brother Renly had such a strong sense of being all on his own against the two of them.

There seemed to be no end to their make-believe. They receded into the apartment, like hothouse flowers. Loras stopped going to his lectures. Renly stopped going to his.

 

 

They lay in the bath together, the three of them, and it was like their idyll, their magical ménage à trois, would never have to end.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please watch _The Dreamers_. It's a magical, dreamy, highly erotic, and spellbinding film. As soon as I watched it I knew I had to write something like it for these three.


End file.
